


Familiar Comfort

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau is Drunk, Blood, Caleb Can Sing, Crying, Excuse Me While I Cry About Yasha Forever, Fluff, Frumpkin is Canonically The Group Emotional Support Pet, Gen, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Kiri Is Adorable And I Love Her, Molly Hates Being Alone, Nightmares, Spoilers for Episode 46 Of Campaign 2, Tags and Characters Will Be Added In Later Chapters, These Will Not All Be Sad I Swear, backstory speculation, this pleases me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: The work of a wizard's familiar is never done, especially when that work is providing comfort to other members of the Mighty Nein, not to mention comfort to his very own wizard.





	1. Beau

One moment Frumpkin is, well, sleeping isn’t the right word for it. Resting, perhaps. Anticipating. One moment he is in his own little dimension, waiting, and the next he’s on the Material Plane, in someone’s lap. There’s the smell of whiskey and blood and sweat, and that tells him that he’s in Beau’s lap before he even hears his wizard’s voice in his head.

_Make sure Beauregard stays put while I go fetch Molly._ _Do that kneading thing with the claws out, just a little. Meow pitifully if she tries to get up._

“Caleb, I’m fine.” Beau’s words sound slurred and sullen. “I don’t need your cat to babysit me.”

That’s what she says, but her hands find her way into Frumpkin’s fur as he curls up on her lap and kneads at her thigh. He purrs loudly, even though her hands are clumsy and she’s petting him just a little bit too hard. There is something dripping onto his fur. Blood, probably, not tears. Tears come after the blood with Beau. Frumpkin remembers this.

“You are bleeding and we are out of bandages and Jester used her last healing spell on the man you accosted for no reason. We are lucky Fjord was able to convince him not to call the guard on you.”

“I had a reason,” Beau mutters. “I didn’t like—“

“How he looked at you, yes.” Caleb interrupts. “That’s not a good reason, Beau, and you know it.” Caleb doesn’t raise his voice, but Frumpkin can tell his wizard is upset. Caleb likes order and routine, and Beau is upsetting both of those things. “Just stay here. Molly is much better at stitches than I am.”

Frumpkin hears Caleb leave, and for a moment it’s just him and Beau alone in the room. Frumpkin closes his eyes, still kneading at Beau’s leg, and purrs.

“That’s not what I said,” Beau whispers.

Frumpkin meows and continues purring, trying to calm Beau down. She always has energy humming just under her skin, even when she’s just sitting still and not doing anything, which is seldom. She should try lying in a sunbeam and having a nap for a little while, Frumpkin thinks that would make her feel a lot better. (Frumpkin is a fey spirit in the shape of a cat, but when he is a cat he is _very_ much a cat.)

There are footsteps, then the smell of incense and blood, both new and old. Frumpkin doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that it’s Molly, even before he hears his voice. Frumpkin knows Molly’s scent very, very well. Sometimes Molly sleeps next to Caleb and Frumpkin will settle in the space between them and purr until their nightmares go away.

“So were you looking to get a scar over your _other_ eye to match the first?” Molly asks cheerfully as he rubs the good place right between Frumpkin’s ears. Frumpkin purrs a little extra hard just for him. “That’s a long way to go just to add some symmetry to your face.”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Beau mumbles, and her hands are trembling just a little as they pet Frumpkin.

“Fair enough,” Molly says evenly. There is a moment or two of rustling, the scrape of a chair being pulled over. “Okay, I’m going to start, though from the look of you, you probably wouldn’t even notice if I had. How much had you had to drink?”

“Enough.”

Molly hums in a noncommittal way. Frumpkin hears Beau wince, and her hands tighten around Frumpkin for just a second, not quite hard enough to hurt. There is silence for a moment or two, but now all of Beau is shaking, not just her hands.

“I just lost my temper, that’s all. Everyone is making such a big fucking deal over it.”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it?” Frumpkin can hear the teasing lilt to Molly’s words. He nearly always has that tone when he talks to Beau, Frumpkin has noticed.

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to say it wasn’t a big thing or anything. Didn’t like how the guy looked, that’s all. Looked like an asshole. Like the kind of guy who gets drunk and then goes home and yells at his wife and kids.”

“That doesn’t mean you—“

“Looked like my fuckin’ father,” Beau spits out, and there are the tears hitting Frumpkin’s fur, thinner than blood.

Silence for a moment, then Frumpkin feels Beau shift and he opens his eyes and looks up. Beau has her head on Molly’s shoulder, quietly crying into it as Molly holds her. Frumpkin has a feeling that Molly is going to need him after this, and he makes plans to jump on Molly’s shoulder and bat at the shiny things Molly wears on his horns until the tiefling laughs.

Now though, now is about Beau, and Frumpkin purrs louder and rubs his face against her, to remind her that he is there, and that she is loved.


	2. Jester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jester is sitting at a table all by herself, which isn’t usual for her. She’s reading a well worn piece of parchment that looks like it’s been folded and unfolded many times, and she’s not smiling, and that’s not usual either. Jester loves to read, especially from the book with the shirtless half-orc on the cover, but whatever she is reading now seems to be making her sad instead of happy. Frumpkin makes a concerned mmmmrrrp sound, his tail lashing, hitting Caleb in the face, who blinks and looks up from his reading.
> 
> “Hmmm? What are you looking at?” Frumpkin feels Caleb’s presence just behind his eyes for a second before it withdraws. “Oh.” Caleb taps his fingers thoughtfully on the book’s pages for a moment. “Go over to Jester and see if you can make her smile. Be cute. Like a kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @invoked_duplicity, who is good people and yells at me about Critical Role and is all around delightful. ^_^

Frumpkin purrs softly as Caleb idly strokes his fur with one hand and turns the page of the book he is reading with the other. They are at an inn after a long day, warm and dry and not fighting anything, and Frumpkin likes these times the best of all, rare as they are. From his vantage point curled around Caleb’s neck, Frumpkin can see the text on the book’s pages, though he can’t read it. Whatever it is, Caleb is completely absorbed in it, not bothered by the noise of the common room at all.

Frumpkin looks around, interested in what everyone else is doing. There seems to be a card game going on between Molly, Fjord, Beau and Nott, with Yasha looking on. Frumpkin watches for a few moments and wonders if anyone else at the table knows that Nott is cheating before his attention wanders about the room again.

Jester is sitting at a table all by herself, which isn’t usual for her. She’s reading a well worn piece of parchment that looks like it’s been folded and unfolded many times, and she’s not smiling, and that’s not usual either. Jester loves to read, especially from the book with the shirtless half-orc on the cover, but whatever she is reading now seems to be making her sad instead of happy. Frumpkin makes a concerned _mmmmrrrp_ sound, his tail lashing, hitting Caleb in the face, who blinks and looks up from his reading.

“Hmmm? What are you looking at?” Frumpkin feels Caleb’s presence just behind his eyes for a second before it withdraws. “Oh.” Caleb taps his fingers thoughtfully on the book’s pages for a moment. “Go over to Jester and see if you can make her smile. Be cute. Like a kitten.”

Frumpkin drops down from Caleb’s shoulder and scampers across the floor of the common room before jumping up onto Jester’s table. He has never been a kitten, technically, but he knows how to be cute. Jester looks up, setting the parchment down and Frumpkin immediately sits on it, so she can’t read it and be sad anymore. “Mrah?” He makes it a question, tail thumping lightly against the table.

“Hi Frumpkin,” Jester says with only a ghost of cheerfulness in her voice. She swipes a hand across her face and only now does Frumpkin realize she had been crying a little. “Did Caleb send you over to see me?” She scratches behind his ears and looks over at Caleb, who seems to be reading his book again. Frumpkin can feel Caleb using his ears though, and he twitches them and leans into Jester’s hand.

“Can I have my letter back, please? It’s from my momma and it’s the only letter I have from her and I miss her.”

 _Oh_ , Frumpkin hears in the back of his mind, and then Caleb gets up, slipping his book into his coat. _Stay with Jester. I will be back shortly._

Jester reaches for the letter and Frumpkin gently “grabs” her hand with his two front paws, careful to keep his claws in, and licks it. Jester’s skin is cold and tastes just faintly of sugar. Jester giggles, the corners of her mouth curving up slightly.

“Frumpkin! Do I taste good or something?”

Frumpkin rolls over onto his back and stretches out, being careful of the letter beneath him, not wanting to tear it. He thinks Jester would be angry if something happened to the letter, and he doesn’t want her to be angry _or_ sad.

“Ahhh, you are so _cute!_ ” Jester rubs Frumpkin’s belly and Frumpkin playfully attacks her hand, keeping his bites gentle and his claws in. She giggles again, and this time she is full on smiling. “Did you develop a taste for my blood, you cute, evil creature?”

Frumpkin just purrs and lets go of Jester’s hand. She doesn’t look sad anymore, she looks happy and faintly thoughtful instead.

“I’ve been drawing pictures of everybody to send to my momma. Do you think Caleb would mind if I borrowed you for a little bit so I could draw you?” Jester looks around. “Hey, where did he go?”

Frumpkin has no idea, not that he could answer her if he did know. Instead, he rolls onto his side and meows, drawing Jester’s attention back to him.

“Oh that’s perfect!” Jester pulls out her sketchbook and pens and several little vials of ink and quickly starts drawing Frumpkin, who does his best to hold relatively still.

“The Traveler taught me a spell like that one Caleb and Nott use all the time, to send messages,” Jester says after a few minutes of quiet sketching. “Except I can use it to talk to _anyone_ I know, anywhere they are! Isn’t that awesome?”

“Mraaaah!” Frumpkin meows in agreement.

“So I can use that spell to talk to my mom, except I can’t say a whole lot before the magic runs out, just like, ‘hi mom, I love you and today we fought goblins and some ogres and stuff, it was pretty great, and no one died or anything.’ Well, that was awhile ago, but you get the idea. And Mom can talk back! She tells me how much she loves me and misses me and how she’s feeling and everything. It’s nice and all, and _way_ faster than sending letters, but I still miss like, actually seeing her, you know?”

“Mrrrrrrp,” Frumpkin replies.

“Maybe when the trouble dies down with Lord Whatever-His-Name-Was, I could go visit her. I bet she would love to meet all of you too! But until then I can send her pictures of all my friends so she knows who I am talking about in my letters!”

Frumpkin purrs in response and Jester spends some more time quietly drawing before she looks over her bottles of ink. “I don’t have yellow to do your eyes with.” She picks two bottles and holds them out to Frumpkin. “What color eyes do you want instead?”

Frumpkin can’t see colors very well in this shape, not like the few times he’s been a bird. He gently paws at a bottle at random and Jester smiles.

“You will have blue eyes like Caleb then!” Jester smiles and goes back to concentrating on her work.

Frumpkin continues posing, blinking when he feels Caleb use his eyes for a moment before his wizard comes walking back into the inn and up to Jester’s table. He is holding a bag of something that smells like cinnamon and sugar and he awkwardly holds it out to Jester when she looks up.

“You looked like maybe you were feeling a little homesick so I went and found a bakery that was still open and I bought you these and so here you go,” Caleb says all in a bit of a mumbled rush, not quite looking Jester in the eye. He turns back around, probably to go back to where he had been sitting.

“Oh Caleb, that is so sweet! Thank you!” Jester stands up and takes the bag from him and puts it on the table near Frumpkin before taking a step toward Caleb, who takes a step backward, eyes wide.

“I just wanted to hug you, if that’s okay? It’s okay if it’s not!” Jester says quickly.

Frumpkin watches Caleb consider this before giving a small nod, looking Jester in the eyes briefly. “Ja, that is okay. Just not too hard? You are very strong.”

“That is true,” Jester says as she gives Caleb a hug. There is a moment where Caleb doesn’t respond at all, then his arms come up, giving her a brief squeeze before they both let the other go.

“Would you like to sit over here and read?” Jester asks, sounding hopeful. “I can be quiet so I won’t bother you or anything.”

“You don’t have to be quiet if you don’t want to,” Caleb says softly, and sits down across from Jester. “You are drawing my cat?”

“Yes! You don’t mind, do you? He came over here and he was being sooooo cute, and I thought that I would draw a picture of him, to send to my mom.”

“I do not mind,” Caleb says, reaching out to pet Frumpkin, who purrs loudly.

“Oh good.” Jester sits back down and opens the bag Caleb brought her. “Bear claws with cinnamon! You remembered!”

“I remember everything,” Caleb says with the tiniest of smiles. Frumpkin notices that his eyes look just a little bit sad when he says this, but he doesn’t think Jester does.

Jester takes out a pastry and holds it out to Caleb, who just stares at it.

“I bought those for you.”

“Yes, and I am sharing with you, because you are my friend and friends do that,” Jester says with a smile.

Caleb looks her in the eyes for half a second, and smiles back, and takes the pastry.

Frumpkin purrs louder, happy that his wizard is happy, and Jester is also happy. The air smells like cinnamon and sugar, good smells for a good moment, a good memory, and then another set of smells attract Frumpkin’s attention and he looks up, startled.

There is a figure in a hooded cloak standing next to Jester, someone that neither Jester or Caleb seem to notice, though they’re directly in Caleb’s line of sight. Frumpkin can’t see a face underneath the hood, but the stranger smells like forests and magic and dust on the open road.

The stranger chuckles. _“It is good to see her making new friends.”_ They reach down and pet Frumpkin in the good spot right between his ears and Frumpkin knows then just who is petting him, and goes very very still. Frumpkin may be shaped like a cat, but he _is_ a fey spirit and is able to recognize Someone greater than him.

 _“Good kitty,”_ the Traveler says, and then disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I wrote a chapter with Liam and Laura's characters interacting and being fluffy on their birthday! I wish I had done that on purpose! :D


	3. Kiri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb blinks in surprise as he finds himself being clung to and Frumpkin mews softly because Kiri’s face is buried in his fur and she’s crying softly, still making those distressed peeping sounds.
> 
> “Oh. Ummm.” Caleb stiffly puts his arms around Kiri. “What is wrong?”
> 
> “Bad dream,” Kiri says in Nott’s voice, the sound muffled in Frumpkin’s fur. She makes a slithering, hissing sort of noise. Frumpkin doesn’t know what that means, but Caleb seems to.
> 
> “Ah. About the crocodiles we fought in the swamp. Yes, that was very scary, but we killed them and you are safe now. So no more crying?” Caleb’s question sounds hopeful, like now that he’s used reason on the problem it will simply go away. 
> 
> Kiri continues to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally thinking of only doing official members of the Mighty Nein, but I couldn't resist doing a chapter for our collective adopted bird daughter.

Technically, Frumpkin doesn’t actually sleep, so he isn’t sleeping when there’s a knock at the door of the room that Caleb and Nott are sharing. He was simply resting, eyes closed, completely aware of his surroundings, purring softly against Caleb, who is curled around him like the familiar is the center of his world. Nott is at her customary spot near the foot of the bed, which is where she tended to end up no matter where she started at during the night, and habit and muscle memory meant that when Caleb bolts awake at the sound of knocking and casts his dancing lights while rolling out of bed, Nott knows to roll in the other direction so as not to get kicked in the face.

Caleb stands in the middle of the room, breathing hard as the knock comes again. He has that look in his eyes, that distant look that means that he had been having bad dreams, and that part of him was dreaming still. His hands smolder gently, adding more light to the room. Frumpkin leaps off the bed and winds himself around Caleb’s ankles, meowing to remind Caleb of where he is, who he’s with, that he is safe.

Nott is a bit slower to react, but then, she had been asleep and Frumpkin had not. Frumpkin watches as she makes sure to enter Caleb’s line of sight before speaking. The goblin has plenty of experience with dealing with a suddenly awake and yet not awake Caleb. “Caleb? It’s Nott. We’re at the Keystone Pub, in Berleben, and you’re safe. Someone is knocking at the door. That’s all.”

Caleb blinks, and the fire in his hands dies. Silently, he picks up Frumpkin and drapes the cat around his neck like a scarf. Frumpkin, well used to this, simply lays there, a comfortable, purring weight as the knock comes again. Frumpkin sees Nott look to Caleb, who isn’t making any move to answer the door.

“Who is it?” Nott calls out.

“Who is it?” The reply echoes back in Nott’s own voice.

Nott frowns as they open the door. “Kiri? Is that you? It’s late! What are you doing up?”

“It’s late!” Kiri repeats in Nott’s voice, nodding. She tilts her head, looking past Nott at Caleb and Frumpkin.

Frumpkin chatters at Kiri like a regular cat would have chattered at a bird or a rat he wanted to pounce on, and immediately felt embarrassed. He was in the shape of cat, and the body had its own ideas sometimes, but he knew that even though Kiri smelled like a bird, she was a friend and not prey.

Kiri chatters back and tilts her head in the other direction, seemingly fascinated by Caleb’s lights. She steps into the room and looks around as Nott lights the small oil lamp that sits on a rickety bedside table before the spell fades out. Throughout all this, Caleb simply stands where he was, eyes tracking Kiri and Nott’s movements. He reaches up to scratch Frumpkin behind the ears, and Frumpkin can feel his hands shaking.

Nott continues her questioning as she closes the door behind Kiri. “Couldn’t sleep? Or did you have a bad dream?”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Kiri says in Nott’s voice, complete with the inflection of a question, but she’s nodding. She makes a sound that Frumpkin has become very well acquainted with ever since they’ve begun traveling with Beau; a thick, heavy snore.

“Well you can stay here with us, Kiri, if Caleb doesn’t mind. There might be enough room on—“

“She can share the bed with you, Nott,” Caleb says softly. “I am going to stay up and read.”

Nott gives Caleb a worried glance. “Are you sure?”

“ _Ja_ , I am sure,” Caleb replies, already reaching for one of his books and sitting in the room’s only chair. “I will be fine. Go back to sleep, it’s been a long day for you.”

“For you too,” Nott says, but the statement has little force behind it as she’s already yawning and swaying on her feet. Frumpkin had missed whatever fight had happened in the swamp, but he had smelled Nott’s blood over the scent of the swamp mud, and had noticed that Nott had several new pale green scars. “C’mon Kiri, let’s go to sleep.”

Frumpkin watches Nott and Kiri climb into bed, Nott curling herself protectively against the little bird girl, who closes her eyes and makes a few quiet clicks and sleepy sounding whistles before she settles down. Caleb bends his head over his book, one trembling hand turning the pages, the other petting Frumpkin nearly continuously. He occasionally mutters to himself, half in Zemnian, half in Common. Frumpkin is used to this. Caleb is usually either agitated after he’s had a nightmare or practically non-responsive, and the familiar is not sure which is better. He simply purrs and occasionally rubs his face against Caleb’s cheek. More than likely, Caleb will fall asleep over his book in a few hours, that’s what normally happens.

A few hours pass and indeed Caleb is dozing over his book when Frumpkin hears a strange sound coming from the bed, a very quiet peeping sound. Frumpkin looks over and knows that Caleb has woken up and heard the sound too from the way his shoulders suddenly tense. “Kiri?” Caleb whispers softly.

Kiri has curled into herself, eyes tightly shut, but at the sound of her name she opens her eyes, which are wet with tears. She’s out of the bed and climbing into Caleb’s lap quicker than Frumpkin can blink, Caleb only just managing to move the book out of the way before the clawed toes on Kiri’s feet can tear the pages. Caleb blinks in surprise as he finds himself being clung to and Frumpkin mews softly because Kiri’s face is buried in his fur and she’s crying softly, still making those distressed peeping sounds.

“Oh. Ummm.” Caleb stiffly puts his arms around Kiri. “What is wrong?”

“Bad dream,” Kiri says in Nott’s voice, the sound muffled in Frumpkin’s fur. She makes a slithering, hissing sort of noise. Frumpkin doesn’t know what that means, but Caleb seems to.

“Ah. About the crocodiles we fought in the swamp. Yes, that was very scary, but we killed them and you are safe now. So no more crying?” Caleb’s question sounds hopeful, like now that he’s used reason on the problem it will simply go away.

Kiri continues to cry.

“I am no good with children,” Frumpkin hears Caleb mutter to himself. “Uh. Would you like to hold Frumpkin?”

“He’s very soothing,” Kiri says in Caleb’s voice, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. She gently pulls Frumpkin from around Caleb’s neck and holds him in her arms as she leans her head against Caleb’s chest, seemingly content to stay where she is. Frumpkin purrs before Caleb can ask him to, and moments later Kiri is mimicking the sound.

“There, that is better, yes? No more crying,” Caleb says, sounding relieved. “Do you think maybe you could go back to sleep?”

Kiri shakes her head vigorously and tightens her grip on Frumpkin as she leans harder against Caleb. “Dream scary,” she says, the first word in Nott’s voice and the second in Caleb’s.

“ _Ja,_ I know how that is. I have a hard time going back to sleep after bad dreams too.” Caleb hums thoughtfully for a moment. “Kiri, when you have a bad dream at home, what do your parents do? Do they sing to you? Tell you stories?”

“Sing,” Kiri replies in Caleb’s voice before suiting the word to action. Kiri’s song is many sounds, the rush of a river, wind in the branches, rain falling on leaves.

“I do not think I can sing that,” Caleb says softly. “But my mother, she—“ Frumpkin hears Caleb’s voice catch slightly before he continues. “She used to sing to me. When I was small.”

Frumpkin sees Kiri look up at Caleb. “Sing,” she says again with Caleb’s voice, softer this time.

For a moment, Caleb doesn’t say anything, then Frumpkin hears him take a breath.

_“_ _Der Mond ist aufgegangen,_

_Die goldnen Sternlein prangen_

_Am Himmel hell und klar;_

_Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget,_

_Und aus den Wiesen steiget_

_Der weiße Nebel wunderbar….”_

Frumpkin listens to Caleb sing in his native tongue, in a soft, clear tenor voice. It’s a song about how peaceful the night is, about how misery is forgotten in sleep, and about the foolishness of men. By the end of it, Kiri is asleep, her feathery arms still wrapped around Frumpkin.

“That was beautiful, Caleb,” Nott says softly from the bed.

“ _Danke,”_ Caleb replies. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since she got out of bed,” Nott says. “I would have spoken up if you hadn’t been able to calm her down. But you did just fine.” She smiles. “You know, if she sings that in front of her family, they’ll be a whole little flock of singing Calebs.”

“Ha, imagine that,” Caleb says, and it nearly sounds like he’s smiling.

“You know Caleb, you’d make a good fath—“

“Don’t.” Caleb says flatly, interrupting her. “I can’t think about that. Not now.”

“All right,” Nott says softly. “Someday though.”

“Go back to sleep,” is all Caleb says, his voice suddenly sounding thick, like he’s trying not to cry.

Frumpkin watches Nott close her eyes. She meant well, Frumpkin was sure, but he can tell Caleb was upset by her words. He shifts in Kiri’s arms and the girl makes a sleepy sort of whistling sound and holds him just a little tighter.

“Stay,” Caleb whispers. “I am fine.” He reaches over and rubs the good place between Frumpkin’s ears for a very long time until he too falls asleep.

Frumpkin closes his eyes again, not sleeping, purring softly. In her sleep, Kiri mimics the sound, as if she too were trying to soothe Caleb.

*********

Much later, there is a series of insistent knocks at the door, and it’s a testament to how tired Caleb must have been because this time he didn’t start awake.

“Nott? Caleb?” Jester’s voice is high, cheerful sounding and yet panicked all at once. “Is Kiri in there with you? Because she is not in our room and I am worried she wandered off and got eaten by a swamp monster or got drunk or something.”

Frumpkin watches Nott scamper to the door and open it. “Shhh, you’ll wake them up!”

Jester’s gaze goes from Nott to Caleb and Kiri and Frumpkin and her eyes go as wide as her smile. “I have to draw this! The Traveler won’t have ever seen anything this cute!”

Later, Jester will show Caleb the drawing, and the wizard will blush and stammer over it, but he’ll also smile. Even if the smile is a little bit wistful, it’ll make Frumpkin happy to see it, and he’ll purr just a little bit harder even as Caleb buries his face in Frumpkin’s fur to hide a few shed tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby Caleb sings is "Der Mond ist aufgegangen," (The Moon is Risen, at least according to the translation I am looking at) and the video for the song is [here.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olT6z-aErv4&feature=related)
> 
>  I only found a [translation](http://www.thoughtco.com/learn-german-lullabies-1444590) for the first four verses (the youtube video has seven I do believe) and Frumpkin sums it up nicely, I hope. (It's the third song on that list, btw, so just scroll down until you find it.)
> 
> Translation for the verse that Caleb sings: 
> 
> The moon has risen,  
> The little golden stars shine  
> In the heavens so clear and bright  
> The woods stand dark and still  
> And out of the meadows rise  
> A wonderful fog.


	4. Molly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, someone found me after all. That’s wonderful. I’ve never been alone before. Turns out I hate it.” Molly giggles, and Frumpkin has heard a giggle like that before, usually from Caleb after he’s had a nightmare, right before he buries his head in Frumpkin’s fur and cries. “Here kitty kitty kitty.”
> 
> Up close Molly’s skin looks more gray and less purple, except for all the places that are red. Molly is full of wrong colors and wrong smells but Frumpkin jumps into Molly’s lap anyway, because Caleb told him to stay with Molly, and that’s what he has to do.

_Stay with Molly_ , Caleb had told Frumpkin. Frumpkin had tried, he really had, but everyone had been running and there had been so many people with dragon masks hurling spells and Yasha had done the thing where she had wings, and he had been afraid of her, even though it was Yasha, who was always so gentle when she pet him and spoke so softly unless she was fighting. He had seen her wings arch over her back, making herself look bigger, like when Frumpkin arched his back and fluffed out his fur when he was scared, and wondered if maybe she was scared too. By the time Frumpkin had shaken off his own fear, Molly and Yasha had been gone, had headed deeper into the swamp.

Frumpkin doesn’t like the swamp at all. The ground is squishy and his fur feels damp all the time and everything smells like rotting plants, and that last point is the problem, because it was making it very hard to smell the incense and old blood smell of Molly. There’s plenty of new blood smell though, so Frumpkin follows that until he finds a necklace on the ground, one of the ones Molly wears, the one shaped like a heart, the chain broken. Frumpkin sniffs it and sneezes at the smell of blood and magic before continuing on.

There is more blood, and now there are occasionally bodies of people wearing dragon masks, which Frumpkin gives a wide berth to but otherwise ignores, following Molly and Yasha’s scent. When the air before the storm smell of Yasha separates from Molly, Frumpkin follows where Molly has gone, surprised. Molly and Yasha are almost always side by side, so much so that sometimes they smell like each other.

The smell of blood and incense grows stronger, and then there are more bodies, but that doesn’t matter because there’s Molly, sitting up against a tree. Frumpkin doesn’t meow at Molly, because he doesn’t know if there are more cultists around, if that will attract their attention. So he walks quietly, and his tail begins to lash when he realizes there is too much new blood smell and the smell of something burnt and something that smells almost like the acid Nott makes sometimes, and that all those smells are coming from Molly and Molly shouldn’t smell like that.

Molly’s head moves to track Frumpkin, and his mouth splits into a grin. There’s blood on his teeth.

“Hey, someone found me after all. That’s wonderful. I’ve never been alone before. Turns out I hate it.” Molly giggles, and Frumpkin has heard a giggle like that before, usually from Caleb after he’s had a nightmare, right before he buries his head in Frumpkin’s fur and cries. “Here kitty kitty kitty.”

Up close Molly’s skin looks more gray and less purple, except for all the places that are red. Molly is full of wrong colors and wrong smells but Frumpkin jumps into Molly’s lap anyway, because Caleb told him to stay with Molly, and that’s what he has to do. Frumpkin whines when Molly pets him. His hand is sticky, and Frumpkin isn’t looking forward to washing himself later. Molly’s coat is slashed near where Frumpkin is sitting, and Molly has his other hand over it, blood leaking out around his fingers.

“I don’t suppose anyone was following you?” Molly asks Frumpkin, and he slurs his words like when he’s had too much to drink. “Jester maybe, or Fjord? Nott? I could use a stiff drink about now. Or Beau, I’d settle for Beau, her yelling would keep me awake. All that fighting made me….very tired.” Molly sighs and pets Frumpkin wearily, his hand shaking. “Yasha will find me. She always finds me. Maybe she’ll find my necklace too. Something to remember—-.” Molly looks into Frumpkin’s eyes, as if searching for something. “Caleb, are you in there?”

It’s coincidence, Frumpkin knows, but suddenly he does feel Caleb using his eyes to see and his ears to hear. Frumpkin meows in what he hopes sounds like an affirmative way and Molly smiles, scratching him between his ears, in the good place.

“Was that a yes? I hope it was a yes, because that means I’m even less alone.” Molly closes his eyes for a moment,and shifts against the tree slightly, wincing. Frumpkin can see that there’s a burn mark on one shoulder, and that acid has eaten through his coat and his skin on his other arm, the one not petting him. “Some of those cultists were wearing claws, can you believe it? You have to admire their commitment to an aesthetic, I suppose. I’d clap, but, well, I have my hands full, currently.” Molly opens his eyes again, but he doesn’t look at Frumpkin, just stares out into the swamp. His hand on Frumpkin feels cold. It’s not supposed to be cold.

“Caleb, if you can hear me, I just want you to know that—“ A pause, and then Molly shakes his head. “No. I can’t do that to you. I can’t say _that_ and then leave. Last words like that are cruel, and I never want to hurt you, not ever.” He sighs and leans his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. “I wish you were here. I wish everyone was here.” His voice is a whisper.

_Keep him awake_. Caleb’s mental voice sounds calm, emotionless, and Frumpkin knows that means that Caleb is trying desperately not to panic.

If Frumpkin can hear Caleb, that means Caleb is close by. Frumpkin obeys the command as best he can. “Mraaaaah!” he cries, kneading at Molly’s lap with his claws out.

Molly’s eyes open a fraction. “Haven’t I lost enough blood today?”

Frumpkin grumbles and kneads a little harder because yes, Molly has, and that is upsetting.

There’s the sound of something moving through the trees, and then Caleb’s voice. “Yasha, slow down, you—“

Yasha bursts through the trees and vines and strides towards Molly, dropping to her knees beside him. Molly looks up at her and smiles. “See, Frumpkin? I told you. She always finds me. Like magic.”

Yasha doesn’t say anything, just places one hand on Molly’s chest. The glow of magic is faint, her powers of healing nowhere near what Jester could do, but a little bit of color comes back into Molly’s face and he warms slightly. Frumpkin purrs, pleased, and is still purring when Caleb snaps his fingers.

Teleporting from Molly’s lap to Caleb’s shoulder has the side effect of cleaning Frumpkin’s fur, which the familiar is very glad of. He drapes himself around Caleb’s neck and nuzzles against his cheek until Caleb reaches up and gives him a skritch behind the ear. Frumpkin purrs as Yasha picks Molly up as if he doesn’t weigh anything at all, and notices that she’s moving stiffly, favoring one side. Had she been hurt too? He doesn’t smell her blood, but there are plenty of ways to hurt someone without having them bleed.

“We’re going to find Jester and the others, and she will heal you, and you will be fine,” Caleb says firmly to Molly as he falls into step with Yasha, and draws something out of the pocket of his coat. It’s the necklace Molly was wearing, the heart-shaped one that smells like magic, but Molly waves him away weakly when Caleb holds it out to him.

“I’ll be all right without it until Jester can repair the chain with her magic.” Molly smiles and closes his eyes. “Until then, you can keep my heart, Mister Caleb.”

Frumpkin can feel Caleb’s blush through his fur and if cats could smile, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In "With Your Words For Company I Won't Ever Be Lonely," when Jester tells Cali that they ran into her cultist friends, this is the incident she's referring to.


	5. Yasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha’s hands can swing a sword that cleaves through flesh as if it were paper, but her hands are always gentle when she pets him. Frumpkin closes his eyes and keeps purring, content to relax after such a long day. Familiars don’t need to sleep, strictly speaking, but he is cat shaped, and cats like to relax, and to nap.
> 
> “She would have liked you, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So funny thing. Yasha's chapter was always right after Molly's. This takes place directly after Chapter 4, so if you haven't read that one for some reason here's your chance to do so. Anyway. The first 300 or so words have this have literally been in my draft folder for months. I was stuck. 
> 
> Then the episode happened. That part happened. And I knew what I was going to work on next.

“Yasha, I’m fine, you don’t have to fuss.”

Frumpkin grumbles from his place in Caleb’s lap, because Molly isn’t fine. No one is fine. The swamp is awful and smells bad and even after Jester had healed everyone the best she could Molly was still hurt, Frumpkin can tell from the stiffness in his smile. Caleb is hurt too, Frumpkin can feel the bandages under Caleb’s shirt, some wound that he hadn’t let Jester see, but Frumpkin can smell the blood still. It’s not a lot, but Frumpkin doesn’t like it anyway. Not like Jester could have done anything about it, she had been completely drained of magic after healing the worst of everyone else’s injuries and was now asleep, Nott curled up next to her with one hand resting on her crossbow. Fjord is sitting up on his bedroll, same as Caleb, but the half-orc looks like staying awake is a struggle for him as well.

“You are not fine.” Yasha’s voice is soft, softer than usual. Earlier she had been roaring, but now her voice is barely a whisper. Frumpkin’s ears twitch. “You almost died, Molly.”

“ _Almost_ is the key word,” Molly says with a soft chuckle, but Frumpkin can see the tension in his eyes and hear the tiny wince of pain in his voice as he slowly climbs into his bedroll. “You saved me. I’m not going anywhere, except to sleep. I’ll still be here in the morning, I promise.”

Frumpkin can hear Yasha sigh and she doesn’t say anything else, just nods and stands up.

“I’ll take first watch with you, Yasha,” Beau says, but she’s yawning as she says it, and then wincing through the yawn as her hand goes to her ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“I will take first watch by myself.” Yasha’s voice is firm. “I am the least tired and the least injured out of everyone.”

Beau and Fjord start to protest about how she shouldn’t take first watch by herself, and it’s Caleb who cuts them off.

“Frumpkin will take watch with you, and he will wake me up if he senses anything unusual. And I have laid down my silver thread. I think Yasha can protect us for a few hours. Even longer than that.”

“Thank you Caleb,” Yasha says softly.

Caleb doesn’t say anything, just lays down next to Molly. For a moment Frumpkin lingers between them, his wizard and the tiefling his wizard loves, and then moves on towards Yasha as she settles herself by the fire. Her movements are stiff, but she smiles slightly as Frumpkin approaches.

“Hello there.” Yasha’s voice is still so soft, still tired and sad. Frumpkin knows very well what tired and sad sound like. He jumps into her lap, kneading gently at her thigh and purring loudly, as if to make up for the quiet.

“That’s the noise you make when you are happy, right? Molly makes a noise like that sometimes.”

Yasha’s hands can swing a sword that cleaves through flesh as if it were paper, but her hands are always gentle when she pets him. Frumpkin closes his eyes and keeps purring, content to relax after such a long day. Familiars don’t need to sleep, strictly speaking, but he is cat shaped, and cats like to relax, and to nap.

“She would have liked you, I think.”

Frumpkin makes a questioning sort of _mmrrrp_ sound, because he doesn’t know who Yasha is talking about. She sounds like Caleb though, when he talks to Frumpkin in whispers late at night about his mother and father.

“We had a dog. First one born to the tribe’s best hunting dog. We named him “With a Quickness,” because he was always alert, always running. Even when he lay next to us at the fire after a hunt he was always moving in some way, tail wagging, ears twitching. He was a good dog. I don’t know what happened to him when I left.”

Frumpkin doesn’t like dogs so much. They tend to chase him when he’s cat shaped. Maybe he’d like dogs more if Caleb ever turned him into one.

“ Zuella would have liked you,” Yasha says. Frumpkin doesn’t know that name, but the way Yasha says it speaks of grief and loss and love. “She would have liked you, and your soft fur and your happy sounds. She would have liked Jester’s laugh and Molly’s smile, and the look in Beau’s eyes when she fights.”

Yasha’s tone of voice doesn’t change, doesn’t waver, but Frumpkin can feel tears dripping onto his fur like raindrops from a storm. “She would have liked grass. She would have liked flowers. I’ve been collecting so many flowers. For her.”

Yasha buries her face in Frumpkin’s fur. The next words are so soft that Frumpkin barely hears them as anything more than vibrations against his skin.

“I loved her, and it killed her. My love is a curse. I almost lost Molly today. It could have been Jester though, or Beau. I’m growing too close to all of you. If I wasn’t so selfish, the next time I leave I’d just stay gone. If I loved you more, I wouldn’t come back.”

_If I wasn’t such a coward, I would leave_ , Caleb had told Frumpkin some time after they had joined up with the Mighty Nein. _But I am too selfish to let them go. I will ruin them, in the end._

Frumpkin wishes, not for the first time, that he could speak somehow. He wants to go to Caleb and wake him up and tell him what Yasha said, that his wizard and the fallen angel have something in common, a similar grief. He wants to tell Yasha to stay, that they all need her strength and her sword and her love. But he is only a spirit bound into the shape of a cat, and all he can do is purr his most healing purr and let his body muffle her sadness.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm angel-ascending over on Tumblr if y'all want to stop by and say hi!


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